


Judicious Use of Sabatoge

by Darkrivertempest



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Innuendo, Snark, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkrivertempest/pseuds/Darkrivertempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius has his eyes on the prize. Too bad it's someone else's prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Judicious Use of Sabatoge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linlawless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linlawless/gifts).



> Written for the awesome Linlawless for the 2013 hpcon_envy LJ community.
> 
> Many thanks to Toblass for the quick beta!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters and canon Potter Verse belong to JK Rowling and associates. I am in no way affiliated with Warner Brothers, JK Rowling, or Scholastic. I do not make any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

Opening a seldom used trunk, Severus peered inside at the musty contents, hesitant to disturb the dust that layered the items at the bottom. Upon further inspection, however, his fingers brushed against a thick packet of documents. Retrieving the papers, he turned it over only to find that he’d neglected to break the original seal, the dark green wax cracked with age, but the Prince family crest was still legible. 

He caressed the crumbling wax in a circular pattern, slowly reacquainting himself with the pride of his mother’s ancestry. Slipping a thin nail underneath one of the edges, he was able to preserve the seal without completely destroying it, allowing the documents to be reviewed. 

_Last Will and Testament of Eileen Prince_

Quickly skimming over the key points, Severus absentmindedly stroked his lower lip with the tip of his thumb. He’d been too busy with the war and the aftereffects to even glance at the Will, too busy trying to survive to even have the chance to read it. Now, after having read several pages, he had decisions to make that would affect his future… and that of a bushy-haired witch. 

Standing, he made his way to the Floo and grabbed a handful of powder. “Malfoy Manor,” he intoned and disappeared in a green flash. 

There was no way he was going to Yorkshire on his own.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy scowled at the crystal tumbler that held three fingers-worth of Ogden’s Best. To be honest, the swill tasted like piss, but when he wanted to delve deep into his cups, he always resorted to something that would be quick… and painfully remind him the next morning of why he kept his private stock under ward and key. He hadn’t yet taken a single sip of the inferior drink; instead, he was rolling in a maudlin miasma which centred on a certain co-worker of his: Hermione Granger. 

The witch was driving him quite mad. Her soft looks; her body—which had become quite curvy since leaving uni three years ago; her compassion for those she deemed worthy of her champion efforts; her body; that unholy mess of hair—which should’ve sent him around the bend, but all he could think about was threading his fingers through her tangles; her body; her shapely calves; the pure trill of her laughter; her body… Gods, it was enough to make him feel as green as an untried youth with the way his cock would stand to attention every time she brushed by him during the day.

There was only one problem, however: all her assets—and then some—belonged part and parcel to Severus Snape. Oh, she would never hold with the archaic ideals that she was ‘someone’s property’, not these modern witches. No, she would say that she and Severus belonged to each other. A sneer inched its way across Lucius’ mouth. If he had any inkling of what his old friend was like—and he most certainly did—it wouldn’t surprise Lucius in the least if the misanthrope was already planning their wedding, even though they’d only tentatively started dating a year ago.

It was obvious wealth was not an issue; neither were financially sound—Lucius knew, still a member of the Gringotts board, as he’d investigated their assets. Was it sentiment? He scoffed. Such tripe didn’t bear thinking. He was about to search for possible potion enhancements—Severus was, after all, a Potion master, and therefore capable of dosing Granger with a powerful unction such as the one used by Merope Gaunt to ensnare Riddle—when a delightful opportunity presented itself. 

A slight nudge to the wards indicated there was someone travelling via Floo, so Lucius quickly flicked his wand and got rid of the liquor, replacing it with a fine bone-china teacup and saucer, full of steaming tea. He feigned surprise at the man that appeared across the room. 

“Severus?” Lucius drawled as his friend stepped out of the grate. 

“Lucius,” he said with a nod and dusted himself off. “I’ve come to request a favour of you.” 

Ah, a favour. Perfect. Lucius hid his smirk behind the cup. “Why Severus, you sly dog,” he chuckled. “Of course I’ll be part of your _ménage à troi_ with Hermione.” He licked his lips lasciviously. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“What?” Severus spluttered, clearly unsettled. “Heaven and Hell would freeze several times over before I’d let you near Miss Granger in that fashion, Lucius. Remove your mind from the gutter, if you will.”

Lucius affected a pout. “But that’s where it’s most useful, my friend.” He winked for good measure.

Crossing his arms, Severus huffed in irritation. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Tugging on his waistcoat to straighten it, Lucius brushed off an imaginary piece of lint. “Depends what it is, old boy.” He looked at Severus pointedly. “I have no more suggestions on how to woo Miss Granger, if that is your predicament. Besides, I thought you two were in accord with one another?”

“This has nothing to do with Miss Granger,” Severus said. “At least, not directly.”

“Indirectly, is it?” Lucius queried with hope. “I do miss sneaking around, you know.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Severus muttered.

“Desperately so.” Knowing the former spy would ferret out his true motive if he were not careful, Lucius reluctantly scaled back on the innuendo and strode across the room until he was near Severus, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Seriously, what is it you need? Ask and it is yours.”

Severus smiled slightly at the affection Lucius showed him. Instead of answering, however, Severus withdrew a packet of documents and handed them to him, indicating he was to read them. A quirk of Severus’ lips was the only reaction Lucius received when he sat behind a massive teak desk and perched a pair of reading glasses on his distinguished nose. 

After studying the parchments, Lucius frowned. “An Unplottable estate in Yorkshire?” he asked, studying Severus closely. “How long have you known of this?”

Setting himself in a leather-backed chair in front of the desk, Severus tapped his fingers on the arm. “My mother died some years ago, just after Mr. Potter came to Hogwarts.” Lucius could tell he was valiantly trying not to spit the boy’s name. “Circumstances being what they were at the time, I had no thought of it until recently.” He stroked his jaw with the side of his thumb in a familiar gesture of contemplation. “I’d like to see if it is habitable for Hermione and me.”

Lucius dropped the papers to the desktop, his jaw clenching. It was as he suspected. Truly, his ‘old friend’ was predictable. “You plan on asking her to marry you?”

Severus looked affronted. “Of course I do!”

“Just curious, my friend,” Lucius laughed, the sound fake and hollow. “I was going to demand you make an honest woman out of her, but I think it may be the other way around.”

“Ha! The woman already has me wrapped around her pinky,” Snape admitted grudgingly. 

By Merlin’s hairy backside, Lucius thought he was going to revisit the contents of his stomach. Leaning back in his chair, he laced his fingers behind his head and smiled mischievously at the fretful wizard across the desk. “You love it when her eyes flash with anger and righteous indignation, yes?”

Severus became very still and peered at Lucius intently. “How do you know what she looks like when she’s in a snit?”

Careful now. “Severus, I work with the chit every day.” And then to bait. “Hell, I even know when her flower is blooming by the way her hair is extra frizzy.”

It was quite amusing, watching as those heavy, dark brows shot into Severus’ greasy hairline. “What?” he coughed, his eyes widening.

“When she coddles that book you gave her, it really is quite pathetic. The poor thing weeps incessantly while smiling to the heavens.” 

“That’s my fiancée you’re speaking about, Lucius!” 

Lucius waggled his eyebrows and shook a finger at him. “Ah, ah ah!” he crowed. “Until there’s an actual ring upon her slender finger, then the game is still afoot!”

Seething in fury, Severus stood and snatched the documents that lay in front of Lucius and headed for the Floo. “I swear by Dumbledore’s sugar-rotted teeth that you’ll not come within several metres of her, or by Merlin you’ll lose that precious hair of yours!”

Oh, that wouldn’t do. “Severus!” Lucius shouted amidst his laughter. “Stop, please!” He followed him to the hearth. “I promise you with all that I am, that Hermione has been and always will be yours.” For now.

Clutching a handful of powder, Severus studied Lucius. “Swear a Wizard’s Oath.”

Well, well. Taken aback somewhat by the severity of his request, Lucius nodded slowly and extracted his wand. “I, Lucius Malfoy, swear that Hermione Granger is safe from my attraction for her.” He conveniently did not mention ‘lust’. 

“Your attraction for her?” Severus ground out. 

Damn the suspicious bastard! Averting his eyes, Lucius found the carpet very interesting. “I won’t lie to you, Severus. Had I not found out your intentions and her affection for you, I would’ve pursued her myself.”

Severus was not in the least bit mollified. “What of Draco’s infatuation?”

Gods, this was getting tiresome. Raising his head in the prideful way only a Malfoy could pull off, Lucius smirked. “I told you I was game for a _ménage à troi_.”

Severus sneered in disgust. “You’re abhorrent.”

“And you’re a prude. If you think I’m horrible, you should’ve read what some of my ancestors did,” Lucius teased. He sobered. “Shall we go to Yorkshire, then?”

Assessing his friend from head to toe, Severus snorted. “You may wish to change your attire. I expect it’ll be rather dusty.”

Lucius looked down at his clothing. “This is my least costly set of robes. I think I can afford to have them burned, should the need arise.”

Sighing with a heavy groan, Severus muttered, “I despise the wealthy.”

Taking his place next to the grumpy wizard in the grate, Lucius chuckled. “No you don’t, Severus. The greatest single source of wealth is between your ears.”

* * *

After many revealing spells and even a little blood magic by Severus himself, Prince Castle was finally visible to the two wizards standing at the front of the gates, its high turrets taller than the oldest oaks in the surrounding forest.

"This is your family seat, Severus?" Lucius breathed in awe, staring at the arc-boutants on each side of the main house, eventually pursing his lips in consternation. The size of the demesne alone warranted a hefty price, should his friend decide to sell the property. Add to that the castle—and what he suspected were other treasures within—and it was possible the wealth could rival his own. 

Mirroring his friend's amazement, Severus nodded. "It was willed to me some years ago, but with the war and everything in between, I've never had the opportunity to inspect it." 

His strategy for luring Miss Granger from Severus’ grasp needed recalibration. "I hate to admit it, but this estate is grander than Malfoy manor." 

"Surely you jest," Severus said, flabbergasted. 

If only he could. "I never jest about money," Lucius snorted. "But while this may be larger in scale than my own humble abode, your net worth will not even touch mine." 

"Braggart," Severus hissed. 

"Realist," Lucius corrected. 

Opening the wrought-iron gate with several non-verbal spells, Severus preceded Lucius up the gravel path to the colossal oak door. “Again, I do not know what state the interior is in, so be prepared.”

“A Malfoy is always prepared.”

Severus looked over his shoulder at Lucius with an arched brow. “I only have one word for you: Dobby.”

“That was hardly my fault!” Lucius snarled.

Shaking his head, clearly amused with himself, Severus returned his attention to the door and whispered the family motto that was written on the parchment of the Will. “ _Lumière par l'obscurité._ ”

“Light through the darkness,” Lucius murmured. He studied Severus more closely. 

It was common knowledge that Snape was a powerful wizard; even the Dark Lord had recognised the potential burgeoning within the disgruntled youth. According to Severus—verified by many first-hand and second-hand accounts—he’d been a triple spy for the better part of sixteen years, walking a thin line between two powerful wizards whilst keeping his head upon his shoulders. That was no mean feat. Perhaps it was unwise to test this man’s resolve when it came to his affections. 

Pushing the door open, Severus smiled wickedly. “Had Tom bothered to closely examine my family, he may not have been so eager for my initiation.”

Yes, it would be wise to reassess how much he wanted to anger Severus. “Probably didn’t want to arouse suspicions of his own origins,” Lucius suggested.

The architecture within the manse was just as impressive as the outside. Wood panelling lined the walls of the entryway, along with wizard paintings of what Lucius assumed was a member of the Prince family, placed every few metres. They all looked rather disgruntled; one surly fellow even bared his teeth at Lucius when he walked by. The main corridor led to an impressive grand staircase that rose several metres high and eventually curled around, branching off both left and right to other floors. 

Dust covers were draped over any pieces of furniture and there was a thick layer of grime covering what once must have been a gorgeous Persian carpet running the length of the hall. There were four separate entrances to other parts of the manor on this level, two to the right and two to the left.

“How long has this mansion remained Disillusioned to the public?” Lucius asked, poking his head into the room off to his right, realising it was the receiving parlour. 

Grasping the edge of one dustcover, Severus pulled it free from a high side table. “The Princes hid their magical status during the late fifteenth century.” He pulled another cloth tarp from a cushioned chair. “The heavy wards and deep ley lines keep it constantly hidden without any real effort, but only a member of the House of Prince may enter,” he coughed from kicking up the dust, “and any guests they see fit.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucius said in agreement as he bent low and inspected the hearth. “The Witch Hunts occurred during that time, did they not?”

“Yes,” Severus called to him from another room. “The family was taking no chances concerning their survival and placed a permanent spell on the entire area.”

They separated and searched different areas of the lower floor, granting Lucius time to re-evaluate his plan concerning Hermione. He had always been a man to see possibilities where none existed, which allowed him to make calculated business moves that resulted in large profits. But he was also quite pragmatic, especially after the events of the war and the loss of his wife. Yes, he wanted Hermione’s affections for himself—if she could soften Severus in the multitude of ways he’d been privy to witness, the possibilities for his own growth were astronomical. For the sake of his own soul, he would push his friend once more and see where it led. 

Nearly thirty minutes passed before Lucius happened upon a room on the second floor that might cause Severus to falter on his path with Hermione. “Severus, I think you should see this.”

He heard Severus creep up the staircase, the near-soundless weight of the spy’s steps speaking of habits that would never vanish. “Where are you, Malfoy?”

“In here.” 

Severus appeared on the right, stopping at the entrance to a light and airy room. Lucius leaned against the door and swept his hand to indicate the whole chamber. “This would make a lovely nursery, I dare say.” 

Lucius watched as Severus scanned the room, scowling in displeasure and not a little trepidation. Lucius’ heart fluttered with hope, only to be dashed a moment later when the most magnificent smile broke on his friend’s face. 

“I wonder how many she would like?” Severus mused softly, his eyes travelling the length of the room. 

Ignoring the ache that sunk further into his chest, Lucius tried to smile. “Having one child makes you a parent; having two makes you a referee.”

“A plausible theory as to why Draco turned out the way he did.”

“Careful, Severus,” Lucius chided with and edge. “I can see you both raising independently-minded children. Keep in mind, however, that whilst you teach them to question authority, you’ll forget that the very first authority they’ll question… is yours.” 

Severus sobered and nodded. “I shall never raise a hand to my children,” he whispered, indicating the type of childhood he’d been subjected to.

“Tis wise, my friend. Besides, it leaves your groin unprotected.”

A snort of laughter eased the tension that had built in Lucius. Something in the way Severus referred to his childhood altered Lucius’ viewpoint greatly, though he would never admit to it, even under duress. For once in his life, instead of pitying his own state of affairs, Lucius deemed another person’s wishes more important. He could not begrudge the weary man a chance at happiness. 

Clearing his throat of its sudden tightness, Lucius gripped Severus’ shoulder, startling him. “I insist on being the godfather to at least one of your brood.”

“Is that so?” Severus asked, a hint of a smile quirking his lips.

“Of course. They can call me ‘God’ for short.”

**Author's Note:**

> Linlawless requested:
> 
> _Hermione is dating someone; Severus and/or Lucius wants her for himself/themselves; strategy, sneakiness, and/or enticement._


End file.
